by Lane Hart
He goes easily, allowing me free rein to move my lips lower, tasting the salty flavor of his stomach before I lick my way down one of those pelvic indentions and then back up the opposite one before reaching down, wrapping my fingers around his hardness.
“You’re so sexy like this, hovering just above me naked, your long hair tickling my hips, beautiful tits brushing the top of my thighs, fingers squeezing me while I’m so desperate for another part of you. I know I’ll get off to this memory for weeks to come.”
“You want my mouth on you?” I ask before finally letting my tongue swipe over his slit and crown.
“Fuck, baby, I want it all,” he says as his hips surge with need. “I want your mouth until it’s painful to hold back a second longer; then I want you to ride me until you come, making me wait just a little longer.”
“You’re a masochist,” I joke between more long licks down the sides of his cock.
“Nah. I just want it to be good for you too.”
“Last night was good for me,” I tell him before taking him in my mouth to suck on his blunt head.
“Oh fuck, Cherry Pie. Last night was good for me too,” Nolan replies in a rush. He throws his head back with an unintelligible slur as I slide my lips down his length as far as I can go.
A few more bobs of my head and strong hands grip my sides to pull me up his body. When my face is above his, he leans up to capture my lips, kissing me hard.
Our lower bodies move against each other, both of us desperate for him to be inside me. God, I hate condoms and the delay they cause, but I’m not on the pill, so the latex is better than an unexpected pregnancy.
“Condom,” I say against Nolan’s urgent lips. “Nightstand.”
With one last deep thrust of his tongue and bruising lips, he pulls away to reach over, digging in the second drawer for the box like he already knew where they were.
Some fumbling and cursing later, he has the rubber sheathed on his hard length. Both of us try and guide it to my entrance at the same time, which only causes another delay that makes us both laugh.
“Sorry. You do it, slowly,” Nolan says, letting go of his shaft to rub his fingers between my legs. “Oh, fuck, you’re so wet.”
“I was even wetter last night after you licked me,” I remind him as I sit back to line him up with my opening. “You should’ve been inside me then.”
“Next time,” he promises, and I believe he means it, like this, us being together will be a regular thing.
Those thoughts are pushed aside as I start sliding down him, one slow inch at a time. Without the slickness, his long, thick cock would probably cause a woman some serious discomfort. Luckily for us, that’s not an issue.
“So beautiful,” Nolan grits out, his jaw clenched tight as he stares up at me, lust glazing over his eyes. “And so…fucking…tight. How long?” He nearly pants the abbreviated question, but I think I know what he’s referring to. When was the last time I had sex since it’s obviously been a while since anything besides a tampon has been inside me, stretching me.
“A year…maybe longer,” I answer with a gasp when he hits my cervix, unable to go any further.
“No shit,” he says with a chuckle that jars him inside of me, making us both moan at the amazing sensation. “Vibrator?”
“Months,” I answer. “Too busy.”
Nolan’s large hands curve around either of my hips, his fingertips digging in as if urging me to move. “Fuck, baby. Let’s catch you up, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agree as I lean forward. Planting my palms on either side of him, I kiss him while finally rolling my hips, riding him.
Nolan
Goddamn.
This is how I want to wake up each and every fucking morning from now on – this beautiful, sexy woman with me, looking well rested for once, content and even exultant as her face goes slack from the pleasure she’s taking from my body.
I’ve been aching for Rita for weeks, and now that I’m right where I wanted to be, waiting for her to chase her release before I earn mine, the tension growing inside me is a sweet agony.
“Faster, baby, faster.” I encourage her with a slap of my palm against her incredible ass, making it jiggle. That one move causes her walls to clench tight around my thrusting cock, so I do it again and again. On the fourth smack, Rita freezes above me a second before the tremors take her. They start in her pussy that I feel throbbing around me, pulling me deeper, until she shivers and shakes all over from head to toe. Her loud, staggered gasps sound the same as last night when she came on my face, like she’s shocked and surprised by how good the orgasm feels.
Unable to hold off another second even if my life depended on it, I clench every muscle in my lower body to pump my cock up into her in quick, shallow thrusts until my release spills from me, filling the condom in pulsing bursts as a distorted swear bursts from my lips.
Rita collapses on my chest before the last of the shudders leave me. I wrap my arms around her, holding her to me, our chests both damp with sweat.
“That…was a damn good start to the day,” I tell her, my palms smoothing up and down her back.
“Mmm,” Rita agrees, her head on my shoulder. “It’s been so long…”
“Good,” I reply with a chuckle.
“I don’t think it has ever been that good.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Worth the wait?” she asks me quietly.
“More than worth it,” I reply. “All twenty-nine years of waiting…”
Rita laughs, and it vibrates through me since I’m still inside of her. She thinks I’m joking.
“I’m serious,” I tell her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
Rita sits up so she can see my face, a lazy, content smile on hers. “We have sex once, and I’m supposed to believe that you’re ready to start picking out wedding rings? Nice try, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“We’ll take it slower then, for your sake, but if you were mine, you wouldn’t have to work so hard. I would treat you like a fucking queen,” I assure her as I stare up at her, loving the way her long, straight, strawberry blonde hair is so long it falls in front of her breasts, hiding them from me so temptingly, all but her still hard nipples peeking through.
Okay, so maybe she’s right and this is more lust than love.
Either way, I’m still a goner for this woman.
Chapter Nine
Nolan
The sound of an alarm clock wakes me up at an ungodly hour.
After just three weeks of enduring Rita’s schedule, I’m completely wiped out. At least I could go back to sleep after she leaves for work, so the woman must be beyond exhausted.
Not that I usually do sleep in. Instead, once Rita’s out the door, I get up, shower, and then make sure her shithead brother actually leaves for school. I don’t follow him, but I don’t think he has been going.
“Ugh,” Rita murmurs as she makes the tinkling sound of the alarm stop by hitting the button on her cell phone, then starts to climb out of her bed.
“It’s too early,” I tell her, grabbing her up in my arms and dragging her back down to the mattress. “Quit the club. I’ll pay you whatever you make there if it means I get to sleep in for once.”
“Ha! Nice try. Now let me go so I can get in the shower.”
“Fine,” I huff, releasing her.
While she’s hurrying around the room, pulling out her underwear and clothes for the day, I ask, “Can I come by and borrow your car later to get groceries?”
“Sure,” she easily agrees, then pauses to look at me over her shoulder. “But it better come back in the same condition as you take it!”
I smile but don’t promise anything. How can she be upset about me putting a new set of tires on that piece of shit? The old ones were so slick you couldn’t see where the treads used to be.
“Tell me what you want for dinner tonight, and I’ll grab what I need to make it,” I offer before she disappears into the bathroom.
“You don’t have to cook for me.”
“I like cooking for you,” I tell her. Rita flashes me a smile, and then she’s off to the shower. Dinner is one of the few times of day we actually get to sit down and see each other. During her lunches, we have to hurry, so dinner is the one meal that’s not rushed during the week.
Rita runs out of the bathroom twenty minutes later in a blur, dressed in a black skirt and pink blouse, ready for the office.
“Tacos,” she says when she comes over to my side of the bed and gives me a swift kiss on the lips.
“You picked the meal that takes the shortest time to make on purpose, didn’t you?” I ask, kissing my way down her cheek before she eventually moves away.
“I just like them too,” she says with a grin that says I’m right. “See you tonight?”
“Yeah, see you then, Cherry Pie.”
There’s a long pause as she grabs her purse from the closet as I hold back from saying the three words on my tongue. I think she’s doing the same, but both of us know it’s crazy to mean them when we’ve not even been seeing each other for a month. Right?
“Bye,” Rita says with one final glance over her shoulder.
“Bye,” I call out, and then she’s gone.
“You’re going to be late for the bus,” I tell Cory when I find him sitting in the living room on the sofa, playing on his phone after I come out of the shower an hour after Rita left for work.
“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but a friend’s picking me up.”
“Whatever you say,” I mutter, heading into the kitchen to fix a bowl of cereal.
“Don’t you have your own place, or are you homeless?” the teenager asks.
“Aren’t you old enough to get a job to help your sister with the bills?” I snap right back at him. “Unlike you, I actually buy the groceries and chip in on the rent.”
“Whatever. I can’t wait until Rita gets tired of you,” he says before walking out the door, slamming it shut and not locking it.
“Asshole.”
I finish my cereal and am washing my bowl in the kitchen sink when there’s a sudden knock on the door.
Before I can dry my hands on the dish cloth, a loud voice says, “Police! Open Up! We have a warrant!”
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter.
And since the door isn’t locked, they just let themselves in. No less than four officers in blue uniforms burst through the door. I drop the towel on the floor to put my hands in the air.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” I ask politely.
The oldest fellow, looking to be in his forties, comes over with a stack of papers in his hands.
“Who are you?”
“Nolan Bishop,” I answer since they could slam me face first on the floor and find that much about me from my wallet in my back pocket. Fuck. That’s not the only thing in my pants. The nine-millimeter Smith & Wesson suddenly feels heavier than normal in the back of my waistband.
Since I’m a convicted felon from my teenage misadventures, that means I’m not supposed to possess firearms. Here’s hoping I can play nice, and the officers won’t insist on searching me.
“You’re not listed on the lease,” the officer replies when he glances down at the paperwork.
“No, I’m not. Rita Collins is the lease holder. I’ve just been staying with her…”
“Well, in that case, we don’t need your permission to search. Stay right where you are in the kitchen, out of our way.”
“Sure thing,” I agree, leaning my back against the sink.
Two of the men split up. One goes into Rita’s room, which pisses me off imagining him rifling through her panties and shit, and the other man goes into Cory’s bedroom. That’s when it hits me that the little shithead is probably the reason behind the surprise search.
Another officer tears apart the living room, pulling up sofa cushions and making a fucking mess before he goes over and opens the door to the linen closet.
“Got something!” he yells to the others.
Damn it. What fucked up thing has Cory done now?
While the fourth cop is also distracted, peeking in the closet with the others, I pull the kitchen drawer behind me open to ease my gun inside it, then slowly and quietly shut it back.
Whew.
If it’s in the house, I can lie and say it’s Rita’s. She won’t get in any trouble for it, but I will – to the tune of a mandatory five years in prison.
Six months in that hellhole was long enough that I know I never want to return.
But at the same time, if the cops found something in Rita’s apartment, she could possibly go down for it instead of them nailing her brother.
And I will never let that fucking happen.
Chapter Ten
Nolan
Present day five years later…
Something awful is happening to the Savage Kings MC.
The biggest, baddest playboys are doing the unthinkable – they’re all starting to settle the fuck down.
I don’t know what the hell they’re doing or why. Well, the why is pretty easy – they’re all pussy whipped. I don’t want any part of that shit, fuck you very much. Been there, done the time. Twice.
The last time that I fell for a beautiful woman, one who I thought I could be with for the long term, that I wouldn’t ever be able to get enough of, it bit me in the ass so hard that I’m still dealing with the consequences.
Abel, Hugo, and I used to love riding up and down the east coast with no attachments to any one place, just riding, drinking, and fucking whoever we wanted whenever we wanted. I know that if not for my probation requirement to have a permanent address, one where I need to be nearby for surprise inspections, the three of us would still be roaming the highway.
I didn’t ask my boys to park their Harleys when I put in a transfer to the Savage Kings MC in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. No, they just followed me here, saying they were ready to put down some roots. They are so full of shit, because neither of them has seen the same woman more than once.
The three of us share a cozy little three-bedroom house, and they keep their guns locked up in their bikes so that they won’t be confiscated by my probation officer during an inspection, and I’ve learned to carry nothing but a big ass hunting knife. It’s not like I need anything more for protection. Who the hell would be stupid enough to mess with any member of the Savage Kings MC?
As if God heard my silent thought from the barstool where I was silently sipping my beer, a giant, bald motherfucker standing at nearly seven feet tall and three times the size of a normal man bursts through the door of the clubhouse. The wooden door slams into the wall with a womp loud enough to make us all jump out of our skin.
“What the hell was that?” Roman McNamara, the club’s president, asks when he strolls out of his office with his gun already in his hand and at the ready. Fuck, I miss being able to carry.
Roman’s boots come to an abrupt halt when he sees the oaf. His gaze does a quick sweep of the bar to see how many men are available to help him tackle the son of a bitch if necessary. Between our prez, who is a former Marine, me, Hugo, Abel, Leo behind the bar, and Marcus supervising the two prospects’ game of pool, I think we have enough bodies to take him on.
Maybe.
He’s bigger than two goddamn bodybuilders combined!
“Who the fuck are you?” Roman asks, keeping his gun lowered to his side. Good on him for not overreacting just yet. If I had a piece, I’d have it cocked and aimed by now. I know Abel and Hugo are thinking the same thing from their barstools next to mine, but they don’t want to make a move to pull their guns, afraid that may set off the hulk. For all we know, he could very well be bulletproof.
“Which of you pussy bastards is Nolan Bishop?”
His voice is so growly deep it’s barely more than a mumble, but I think…I think he just said he’s looking for me.
Fucking great.
“What do you want with Nolan?”
Roman asks the giant.
“That’s between me and him, ain’t it?” he responds. “I’ll bust every head in here until I find out where that son of a bitch is.”
Behind the bar, Leo clears his throat and nods his head at me.
“What the hell?” I ask him.
“Sorry, man,” the youngest member of the MC says with a wince. “I’m too young to die, and it sounds like a personal beef…”
Before I can even turn my head back around to look at the man, I’m being yanked up off my stool backward as if I weigh fifty pounds instead of two hundred and then flattened to a table on my back. I consider shoving a boot between his legs, but he’s made sure to keep his nads out of the way.
Dammit.
The only comfort when a log-size forearm presses to my throat is the sound of no less than seven guns being cocked while he’s distracted. Even Leo, the asshole, has his out and ready.
“I don’t know who the hell you are…but is this really worth…taking a shitload of bullets?” I ask through gasps.
“This time I’m just here to give you a warning,” the bald man growls in my face, baring his crooked, discolored teeth. “The next time, I’ll snap you in half.”
“Okay, great. Warn me all you want, buddy. I’m all ears.”
“It’s time for you to let Rita go,” he growls.
“R-Rita?” I repeat in confusion, and the pressure he applies to my throat nearly makes me choke.
“Don’t play stupid. I’m not an idiot!” he roars in my face, his breath smelling of onions and stale coffee, a horrid combination. “Sign the divorce papers and turn them in by the end of the week, or I’ll come back here and make you sign them with your blood!”
“Divorce papers? You want me to sign…divorce papers?”
“That’s it. Sign them, and we won’t have a problem. You got me?”
